


Washed On Your Shore And Barely Alive

by walkthatlonesomevalley



Category: Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: F/F, trishica - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 10:34:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14079006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkthatlonesomevalley/pseuds/walkthatlonesomevalley
Summary: After Trish is the cause of a huge accident that leaves several dead, she disappears from the spotlight leaving Jessica to sadly wonder if she's even alive.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1  
Trish

I stopped keeping track of the number of days. When I first got here it was all I could do, scratching notches into a tree, writing the days in the sand, staring off at the ocean.

Some time has passed. I don’t concern myself with the patterns of people. I could care less if it's wednesday or tuesday. I used to be driving that pulse. I was the voice that woke them up, now I’m a no one on some island because I was used and then sickened by my own power and greed.

“I can’t believe you can do what you do.”

My own voice came back to me, the memory of finding out about Jessica’s strength.

How did I get this way? When did I change?

“I try not to.”

That’s what Jessica had said. Way back when.

I wished I could remember every one of our conversations but time and pain have buried her words inside me and I can’t find a way to willingly pull them out. I'd have to have her back for that.

I thought about calling an old friend, a psychologist I knew who once agreed to help with Jess. He might know how to retrieve these old memories.

But it wouldn’t work. I couldn't trust him. My location would leak. People would find me.

My life would become public again.

I can’t risk that. 

Having to explain what I did wouldn’t be the real problem. The government would side with me. The loss of a few was still preferable to the loss of the total. And I did save people overall, it was just a mess I made, I should've saved everyone. Somehow Jessica knew I would not.

And now I know why they called Jessica a freak.

Anyone who has to make choices like this is a freak. Like a king of a monarch or a judge ruling over their stand.

Hard decisions ruin lives.

Given everything, I don’t know why I was able to think I’d be okay with that power.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
Jess

It’s been years now. I thought for sure she’d come back to me after a couple of months.

Trish isn’t a scared person. She might’ve been once when her mother was her only way, but I’ve taught her that I will protect her so her hiding must have a lot to do with being scared of me.

“You okay?”

“What? Yeah,” I lied. Oscar knew I’d been even more restless lately.

“Bad case?”

“Sure,” I said. At least that way he would know that I lied.

“You can talk to me. But you already know that. I’m gonna take Vido to school.”

“K, bye,” I said, kissing him as he leaned down and over me. So much of us had become routine. He was fixing me, making me whole again. Which sounds gross but it’s something I need.

“Don’t start any trouble,” he smiled, adoration raining down on me. The trouble I caused was almost always started by someone else and he knew that by now.

I never thought I could get here again, to a place where I actually felt loved by someone who wasn’t Trish. Old memories always tried to convince me to leave but I wouldn’t let them this time.

Not having her… Maybe that was the only reason I could feel for someone again. 

I hated that thought and pushed it aside.

Of course, I missed her. Of course, I knew that I could never connect with anyone the way I did with her but Trish had become a different person and the results of that hurt me and others. I couldn't just forget that she again wouldn’t listen to me.

Trish chose to do what she did. To ignore me, again.

It was our early twenties all over. Instead of Trish getting wasted on drugs, she chose to be the hero over having her friend.

She had this pattern of wanting things and getting them. Patsy, Patsy, Patsy; America’s favorite girl. 

The amount of time I spent thinking about her was insane. I always knew I'd be sick like this no matter how I tried to change.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
Trish

When I decided to go into exile I knew to at least claw at a fake identity, to get papers and credit cards and anything I might need to buy things. Sure I had to rob some random person to do it but I didn't hurt them physically. They probably just thought they forgot all their stuff. It was a quick decision I had to make and it saved me, it was the reason I came here.

In the end I mostly built this world by myself. A house from books, my own two hands. The people didn’t like to build on this land, they said it was sacred and the woods told me secrets all the time.

Perhaps I belonged with the forgotten nature here. Perhaps that was my only right choice in life after all.

Often I think, I can just go back, find a husband, live my life. 

But I hurt Jess. I hurt my only friend.

And I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone the way I’ve always loved her.

So what would be the point in a seemingly normal life? 

Maybe if she were gone I could understand doing that. But she’s not gone and I’m not good for her so I have to stay out here and show her I can be good for myself, I can make that choice. For her, I can do it.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
Jess

Sometimes in the winter when it rains, I stare out the windows and imagine that Trish is right outside watching me back. Perhaps she's in one of the many windows across the way. Perhaps she's in a car with a spy scope and a heavy heart.

It’s always irrational. I think she’s there.

But I know she's not. Trish wouldn’t hide from me this way. It would itch at her too much. Trish never could wait to act on something she wanted inside.

“You’re still up?” Oscar woke.

“Wha-um… Yeah,” I said, not really wanting to talk about it.

“It’s her isn’t it. You’re thinking about her.”

I didn’t say anything.

Oscar turned and cuddled up with his pillow. He knew my wounds and allowed them in me.

I stared out the large window at the slanted rain that only ever reminded me that she was out there somewhere...


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five  
Trish

How many years is rational? Do I have to stay here forever?


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six  
Jess

I can’t take it anymore, not knowing. What if she’s stuck somewhere. What if the military has her and she’s being used?

The more time that passed without a word from her the more sure I was that something was definitely wrong.

I put Malcolm on it, retraced her steps from the place where I lost her. If I couldn’t find the one person I needed, what kind of private investigator was I? I didn’t care that Trish knew best how to evade me. I had to find her, this had gone on too long and I was scared now over the true loss of her and the idea that I actually might never get to talk to her again.

The last place I saw her. It had been the airport. I at least had it nailed down to a few possible trips. Sure, she could’ve switched off wherever she landed but I knew Trish and I knew that wherever she was, if she was free- she would want it to be pretty and easy. She had a lot of money, some in secret accounts, but an easy life was always her way.

The thought of her held-up in some snowy cabin didn’t stick.

That wasn’t her. Her New York life was high maintenance: no shoveling snow, no grocery trips, no lifting a hand she didn’t want to have to lift.

Trish would be somewhere tropical. She’d be in a place where she could sleep in a hammock all day and read her books.

She could have servants but I doubt that. 

Malcolm rifled through license pictures, illegally obtaining records to try and find an i.d. from those hours that could be anything close to Trish.

When he finally landed on two, I took one look and knew which one she would choose.

“Maui,” I mouthed, my chest heaving. “Stacy Henning. A resident of Hana,” I said, staring down at her blonde hair and very similar piercing eyes. 

Hana was a rainforest on a very small island that attracted tourists as well as recluses. There were houses in Hana so far buried in the wood. That could be Trish. 

Plus, she was blond and white, the typical tourist in such a small place. She could easily blend. She could do her makeup well and disguise who she was, that is, if she visited the mainland at all- let anyone actually see her beautiful face.

I sighed, annoyed with her.

“Where you going?”

“Where do you think?”

“Wait, I’m coming too.”

“Uh-uh. I need to do this alone,” I said, taking my bag with my wallet and leaving Malcolm to toil alone.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven  
Trish

There weren't that many ways to fill my days. I tried to stay away from tv since it always aggravated me. What I was left to do was to build more things, grow my plants, and read old novels as well as new.

Since I knew I was crazy I tried to stay away from current politics. I had a problem and it was better for me to pretend that I was actually all alone with no insane will in me and no extra strength.

Some days I’d get restless and take off into the forest just to get some energy out and walk around. 

I had a treadmill I used every day but to walk the earth felt different. Hana had so many secrets for such a small place. Some days I would drive out to the near-abandoned roadside, the routes the tourists didn’t take. I’d walk down the rocks to the deserted black sand beaches that weren’t popular and I’d think about being a child with Jess, what she liked, being alone with me in a place like this, an abandoned beach. I wanted her here.

I’d have my trip, swim a little, cut my feet on coral, meet a dolphin, do some other mundane things.

I rarely ran into a human and when I did I had that fear that maybe they’d recognize me.

Only once was I scared that it actually happened. I’d been at a shop in Lahaina, finally bored and in want of something new and physical that I could touch. After that, I dyed my hair and wore ballcaps. I tried to do all my shopping by mail, even for groceries. It was a hard pill to take.

For so many years I lived knowing that everyone knew me.

But now I'd managed to become isolated. I guess, for me, it had to be self-inflicted.

I thought a lot about Jessica, those years she had with Killgrave. I made myself sick with the thoughts and memories. All she'd been through that we hadn't talked about, all the ways in which I had personally let her down.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight  
Jess

 

The turbulence was sickening. I almost wanted to leave the plane and land it myself, not that I could.

When I landed though I was met with the smell of fresh flowers and a ground that was thankfully solid beneath my feet. I got a car and took off toward the more deserted side of the island. Trish could be anywhere and it was my job to try and guess where she was. 

I visited a real estate agent and tried to figure out which houses in Hana had either been officially bought or rented around the time that Trish would’ve come.

It couldn’t have been thought out, her getting on the plane would’ve been a quick decision. She probably robbed the first blond woman she saw. My own desire to find her here was growing but I didn’t have time to think about how I might act or what I might say.

“Hana doesn't have many properties,” the man laughed. “It’s too far from the stores. Most of those homes are used to rent out.”

“Well, is there any home that was bought or rented around the time she landed that’s still being used. One that isn’t on some Air bnb site or advertising here around town?”

“There are a few properties I’ve been curious about,” the man said.

He proceeded to google things, addresses and such. 

I left with a handful of leads but no true signs of her. The man promised to think about it more and call my cellphone if he really came up with a lead.

It was overcast when I landed but the sun was peeking out now and warning me of its strength. I past a few farms and almost hit a large cow on the road. Getting out just to feel the air, I wondered why this part of the island was lost. It was a beautiful place and the level of calm was unnatural to me. Kilgrave would’ve loved to trap me here.

I shuddered, getting back in my car.

I drove a dirt road right into the trees, on a shallow lead, knowing full well that I could be finding some sinister criminal instead of my Trish.

The first house was abandoned. If there was a dead body, I didn’t want to know.

I left quickly, once I realized remains of food had been left untouched for several years. Trish wouldn’t have lived or left like that. Not even for one day. The place was a mess. 

I went on to lead number two, pushing the foul smells away and the familiar memories of other houses and other times.

Passing a waterfall, my phone started to ring.

“Hello?”

“Oh, hi, Jessica?”

“Yeah,” I said, always bothered when people knew who I was.

“This is Hiram from the Property Store. You must've gone out of reception. I was trying to reach you an hour ago. I think I have a real lead for you. There’s a large plot of land almost the deepest you could go into the forest. A request was made several years ago by a woman to start a complex build.”

“Start a build?” I repeated. 

“Mhmm. It’s not often granted but there have been cases where the board bends when met with a large sum of money.”

“Right,” I said, thinking about Trish and all her backup billions.

“The people here know not to ask to build on that land. So they rarely buy it. That's already a redflag. This land was bought within a week of your timeframe and the speed of the contract deal for the building approval was almost unprecedented. Either this person is famous or they are very very rich.”

“Uh huh,” I said, taking it in and not wanting to think about it. “What’s the address.”

“That’s another thing,” Hiram laughed. “The address is for the old house on the land. There are no images of this property on google maps. Only the old little house. Everything stops after that, goes into black.”

“What are you saying?”

“I can give you the front address but it’s clear this property has some sort of local or government protection from being seen. Your decision to go there might be met with aggression. This person doesn’t want to be found.”

“Just give me the address,” I said, annoyed that he was making such a big fucking deal. I couldn't even pretend to be shocked by humans anymore, I was done with their shit.

“Your call," Hiram said. He'd been trying to warn me. I was actual shit at being nice.

I drove out into the abandoned woods, taking one dirt road that led to another and then another.

As I slowly approached, I saw the break in the heavy wood, the old house that the man had been talking about.

“Hm…” I said, getting out and looking around.

It was spotless, unnecessarily so.

A note on the door said to ring the bell on delivery. 

I thought about it but chose to drive further onto the property instead.

Miles in and another side road presented itself. I took it, a little nervous. Could this be her?

The road led to an elaborate indoor pool house. There was no one there. It was eerie but really clean. There was a robe hanging up, expensive. I pulled the collar to my nose and breathed in the chlorine. There was another smell, perfume from a woman. I wondered but tried not to. I needed real proof not hanging robes with a fragrance that could be bought almost anywhere.

My head swam with the anger of it, the fact that I was actually having to hunt this girl down.

I got back in my car and found the main drive again, going deeper in.

There was another side road but I skipped it this time.

Eventually, the road came upon a very large house, it was beautiful, the kind of house that takes years to build.

I swallowed. This couldn’t be her.

I mean, not unless she met some architect and instantly married him.

The thought of that made me angry inside.

What if she’d been out here having a grand old time, ignoring me while I’d been worried about her.

I walked up the steps of the new Victorian and opened the door, stepping in.

It wasn’t locked, whoever was here wasn’t scared.

I swallowed and stayed still. My ears poised to listen.

To my left was a staircase and right in front of me was a main drawing room and a hall that led somewhere else.

After a few moments of complete silence, I walked into the drawing room and looked at the sparse amount of decorations that were there.

Nice handmade furniture was almost everywhere, things that probably took love to create. There were paintings but not many.

There was a large kitchen and a dining room.

A lot of people could live here but for some reason, I got the feeling that maybe just one person did.

Out the back was a very large tended yard. Outdoor furniture, a beautiful stone firepit.

I stared and thought of Trish in the chair that sat by the firepit. My mind wandered.

I couldn’t linger and stay here in case the owner came home.

I walked back to the entrance and took the stairs up into a very large room that was most likely a study.

The room reminded me of a studio apartment in NYC. Large and spread out. All this person’s favorite possessions were in here.

I walked to the desk with the expensive computer and noticed an old looking book sitting off to the side.

I picked it up and opened it to a random page.

It was handwriting, journal entries:

**I’m not sure what day it is and I don’t even care. What’s it all matter anyway?**

It was Trish.

My hand dropped the journal and I stepped back from the desk.

Old Hollywood movies adorned a sidewall, way too many to name. And the books were everywhere, mostly nonfiction and memoirs. This was certainly her.

She’d organized it, which made me smile, just to see a thing that she made, something new that I couldn't have known.

I found a whole section on building and home reno.

Did she really make this?

I looked about at the walls and the windows, the built-in shelves, even the ceiling fan.

“What the fuck,” I muttered, thinking about it, the overall scope. This place was a dream.

The more I thought about it, the more it pounded home that Trish was here. She had been gone for years. It was all really possible.

That garden out back. Trish never, she never did things with her hands, not like that.

I stepped out of the room and walked out down the stairs.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine  
Trish

Back at the house, I’d been trying to think on what my next project should be. Ever since I’d been out here, I’d been reading these books on psychology and having audio sessions with my new therapist at least twice a week.

My therapist stressed my need to have goals. She was right, I was pretty much useless; without a goal, my mind ran.

With a goal though, I could obviously become dangerous. We talked a lot and often I found myself wishing for Jessica’s stoic silence, her hand in mind, that comfort she gave.

I’d walked into the woods to my favorite natural pool, one small and hidden that tourists rarely found. This was so off the main road, someone would have to be really lost to come up here. 

As I sat and bathed and tried to clear my mind of my problems I heard the crack of a twig being snapped beneath a shoe and when I opened my eyes I had to blink twice to really accept what I was seeing.

“Jessica?”

“Hey,” she said, standing away but staring down on me openly.

“What-” I let out a sigh and moved to the other side of the pool to be closer to her. “How’d you find me,” I asked instead. She looked exactly the same; black boots, torn jeans. Given everything I'd been through, I had to wonder if she was actually real.

“You weren’t hard to track down,” she said. “But I couldn’t wait anymore. I was too scared something bad might’ve happened to you.”

“I’m fine,” I said, resting her mind once and for all.

“Okay,” she said, swallowing her bitterness or sadness or whatever she felt. She looked away.

For some reason, her decision to look away actually hurt me right now.

“How are you,” I asked.

“How am I,” she repeated, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. She wet her top lip with her tongue and kept her mouth decidedly closed.

“Don’t. Don’t do that, I’m really asking.”

“If you cared you’d already know,” Jess said.

“That’s not true,” I fought back.

It was awkward, having this fight with her in my secret place. She was out of the water, above me, refusing to get close. I had this fear that she might just run away and I'd never see her again. The fear ate at me, made my eyes keen to be clued on her, my senses heightened in case she might run.

“I miss you,” I said, being real. 

Jess scratched the bridge of her nose and I watched her face go through expressions she was trying to fight off. “You- ah- you could’ve written," her voice cracked.

“Yeah,” I said, staring at her. 

“Th-that’s it? Just, yeah,” she mocked, one of her shoulders shrugging.

“I don’t deserve to be around you,” I said. “Probably never did. I didn't listen to you and you were right. I put you in danger, put me in danger. Hurt a lot people I could’ve saved.”

Jess swallowed again and just watched me. For the first time in our conversation, I actually did drop my gaze.

As usual, it was almost like no time had passed, like I had just seen Jessica and we’d just been best friends.

“You always take away my choice,” Jess said.

“I don’t mean to,” I defended pathetically. My eyes had glossed over now, tears threatening. She had to know that I missed her more than any one. I bit my bottom lip and tried not to cry. 

Jessica was the only person who ever saw me weak. I wouldn’t give that to just anyone.

“So what then, you’ve just been living here. No one else?”

“Yeah,” I said. She was putting out feelers. Did she actually think I'd just leave her for some life with some random guy?

“You don’t have to,” Jess reminded grumpily.

“I want to,” I said. “I can’t hurt anyone here. I can’t try to help anyone either. And I was really stupid to want what you had.”

Jess stood above me, mind probably racing. She said nothing though which just made me sad.

“Will you stay a while,” I asked. Every inch of me expecting and needing her to agree.

“Maybe,” she said.

She was sad too and hiding most of it. She just stood outside of the water and waited for me. Waited to see what I would do.


End file.
